Friendly Mistakes

 Journal #2

Perfectionism is a detriment rather than a virtue. I suppose that is why I’m always a touch afraid of meeting groups of people- I can’t control what all of them think. Last Friday, I found out firsthand that a mistake can sometimes be the best thing that can happen.

     A group of students had decided to take a hike. After another week of soporific lectures, agonizing homework, and shocking pop quizzes, the 45 minute car ride to Caesar's Head State Park felt like a crawl through the Himalayas. As people clambered out of the car and the tattered bed of a pickup truck, I began to sense myself developing a sly sense of apprehension. I didn’t know most of these people. There were only six of us going on the “less strenuous” trail, and the only one I had met before was the only other guy in the group. The rest were girls. For someone who struggles with impressions, being with a group of girls complicated the plan to have a calm, relaxing evening.

      Along the trail, we chatted, we played, we rested, and we encouraged each other, but-although I was enjoying their company- I still had this silent, nagging fear of their impressions of me. Based on prior experiences, I knew that until I overcame that social hesitation I would not be able to relax and truly let myself have a good time. I soon found out, though, that one small moment of mistake can lead to one huge moment of release.

     We stopped at a small waterfall, and it was just big enough to play in but small enough to be safe. It was a toddler waterfall. The other guy (Daniel) and I decided to whet our appetite for adventure by literally hopping right in. We set our feet free from their tennis-shoe shackles and splashed like little kids in the stream. Of course, we had to burn off our adrenaline, so we proceeded to put our imaginations into high gear. We took up sticks as our armament and commenced in an epic duel, and the damsels on the bank cheered wildly for their favorite knight. Alas, I was defeated, and as Daniel raised his stick-sword in victory, he made a foolish decision that brought friendships into existence. He proudly cast his stick into the stream, and water as frigid as the Bering Sea splashed up, up, and straight onto the nearest girl in the group. We stared. She stared. Then she glared. I had no idea what to do. We were out together in the wilds of the Blue Ridge, and we had a ticked off female to deal with for the next couple of hours. How, oh how, was this going to turn out alright? It seemed my fear would be confirmed: that my reputation, along with the girl’s shoes, would have to be hung out to dry. After an intense 10 seconds, however, her demeanor instantly changed. She quickly snatched off her shoes, leaped into the stream, and playfully tried to chunk us into the water along with Daniel’s stick. We all climbed and splashed, and from that one moment of stupidity all pretenses were gone. The ice had been broken. Friendship had been born.   

    Mistakes do not necessarily lead to disaster. Whether a frigid splash leads to friendship or a botched essay leads to better writing, an honest mistake can and often will enlighten me in brand new ways. I do not have to be a perfect person to make a friend. I do not have to be a perfect writer to become a successful student. I do not have to be a perfect Christian to make a difference in someone’s life. I want to become a better friend, writer, and Christian, but I cannot be paralyzed in fear of petty mistakes. If I am afraid to make mistakes, I will be afraid to try. If I’m afraid to try, I will never accomplish anything. Friday reminded me that perfectionism does not lead to perfection. However, learning from mistakes-or even making a few- will certainly lead to success.   

Seeing A Little Different...

     This is a journal entry for my Composition and Rhetoric class. The prompt is "What I'm learning," and it can be either based on classroom experiences or personal wanderings of the mind. I will probably post all of my entries over the next few months. You will know them by their label Journal #__.  

Journal #1

     I have heard a lot about worldview lately. Over the summer, I read the book Freshman 15 by Travis Agnew. By clearly and thoroughly explaining what a worldview truly is, Agnew challenges Christians to truly live out what they say they believe by viewing the world through a biblical perspective. Viewing the world as God does will lead to changes in our lives, Agnew explains, and those changes are a step towards becoming the people God would have us to be. For me, the challenge to become more grounded in a Christian worldview was exactly the push I needed at this time in my life. As I am preparing to answer God’s call to the mission field, I must first strive to see people, situations, or ideas as God does, or I will utterly waste the educational opportunity that God has provided me. Intellectual growth is great. As a missionary, it will be helpful to understand complex theological concepts. Being able to linguistically analyze a language will be useful, and I may even find myself in a situation where an understanding of chemistry could allow me to avoid great harm. If I do not view the lost with the love of God, though, it will all be in vain. Christians are, as our name implies, followers of Christ, seeking to point everyone in our paths to salvation through Jesus Christ. How can I do that if I do not see them as God does? It can’t be done. Thus, to think, feel, and act like Christ is to be primary goal of my time here at North Greenville University, and I have been learning that sometimes that means changing my initial perspectives about certain situations.  

                Take, for example, the news about Iran I recently heard. Apparently, they had an “earthquake” (or perhaps a failed nuclear test) in a remote region of the nation. Immediately, I humanly associated Iranians with the human rights atrocities that I so often hear of. I thought of the impending nuclear crisis that seems to be looming on the horizon, and I thought of the extreme hatred and persecution of Christian men, women, and children that I have read about in recent days. It was hard to feel sympathy at that moment. However, God has a habit of piercing the callous of my soul right when I think I can’t be moved, and from that wound poured the warm compassion of the Holy Spirit. God is a gracious God, always changing His children and revealing the true way of the cross. I glanced over the pictures, and my heart broke for those grieving, devastated, and misled people. I saw the photos of the lifeless loved. I saw the man hold his child for the last time. I saw the woman screaming at the heavens, devastated at the loss of a precious person in her life. I saw the brutal, sickening effects of a fallen world, and I hated it. The villagers were not who I hated. I hated the forces of darkness that were holding them captive, and I longed for them to be set free. Jesus overcame the forces of evil, and He conquered sin and death. Seeing those people lost and without hope, I pleaded with God to use me-to use all of His children- to reach the world with the good news of Jesus Christ. That natural disaster reminded me that the sin of the world, the sin of Christians, and my own personal sin has devastating consequences, consequences that I sometimes forget. Sin can only be beaten by God. Suddenly, I had an even deeper desire for God to give me more a compassionate heart, and to see the lost not as people I have to reach but as people that I want to reach. Jesus isn’t just for the lost that do not hate or the lost that do not harm. Jesus is for all the lost. He saved me, He saved every Christian, and He will save whoever has faith in Him. Praise God that Jesus saves!